15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"I can't sleep, I'm so anxious," said Meg.
"Think about something pleasant, and you'll soon drop off."
"I tried it, but felt wider awake than ever."
"What did you think of?"
"Handsome faces--eyes particularly," answered Meg, smiling to
herself in the dark.
"What color do you like best?"
"Brown, that is, sometimes. Blue are lovely."
Jo, laughed, and Meg sharply ordered her not to talk, then
amiably promised to make her hair curl, and fell asleep to dream of
living in her castle in the air.
The clocks were striking midnight and the rooms were very still
as a figure glided quietly from bed to bed, smoothing a coverlet here,
settling a pillow there, and pausing to look long and tenderly at each
unconscious face, to kiss each with lips that mutely blessed, and to
pray the fervent prayers which only mothers utter. As she lifted the
curtain to look out into the dreary night, the moon broke suddenly
from behind the clouds and shone upon her like a bright, benignant
face, which seemed to whisper in the silence," Be comforted, dear
soul! There is always light behind the clouds."